Doors with blank expressions

I suppose I’ve been feeling better. I went to the doctor on Tuesday morning and I’m… I’m alright, really. Apart from the fact that my colon and bowels are completely full of shit (literally). This full colon business is driving me insane. I’ve been put on excessive fibre/laxatives to clean me out, thank goodness I don’t need a colonoscopy (at this stage, my doctor said). She did, however, say that I should fix my high cholesterol in six weeks or she’ll put me on medication. I’m not too pleased. Ten years I’ve been fighting this shit and I do constantly keep trying, but I need to have a bit of chocolate every once in a while or so cow help me. I cannot live on broccoli alone.

Well, that was all I ate for dinner and it made me nearly puke. I like the stuff, I guess, but knowing that I’m not just eating it as the supplementary part of a large meal puts a bit of a frown on my face, hence altering my mood. Ugh. I just… it makes me upset, I guess. I don’t want to be on shitty medication the rest of my life just because my arteries are full of fat. I hate my arteries. I’m just going to eat like a health freak from now on. It’s just safer. And better for my health. 😞

I’m so tired now.

After going to the doctor yesterday my mum spontaneously decided that I needed a haircut. I didn’t get it cut since last October, when I had the back cut shorter than the front. It pissed me off once it grew out. πŸ’© This time around I guess I just thought I’d even it out and get my fringe cut. I was going to grow my fringe out so that it didn’t exist… but it looked stupid as it was. I’m going to hate while it grows out too, but whatever. It grows. It’s not the end of the world, and at least I don’t feel like I desperately want a wig. I posted a picture of my new hair on Twitpic. It’s a spontaneous photo… and after I washed it, it doesn’t look as straight but that’s alright.

The reason my mum thought I should get a haircut is because I had a photoshoot today (one I got chosen for) and after choosing out some dresses I had at home, she realised that my hair was just downright awful. πŸ˜› Well, it is much better now. The photoshoot went alright. My mum helped me pick out four outfits. Three of them were pretty formal dresses and one was just a rather rocking outfit with a short skirt and boots. It was pretty fun. The makeup artist was really not much of an artist at all, and she was pretty rude and said my eyebrows were really bushy. Ugh fuck. I feel cool about my eyebrows okay? I know some people pluck theirs but hell, once you do that, you have to keep plucking at them to even them out, and soon you’ll have no eyebrows, like one of my aunts. 😦 There is nothing wrong with my eyebrows…

The photographer was really nice. Like most people are, he was surprised when I told him my favourite music was rock and metal music (he likes Avenged Sevenfold and Atreyu too). He was friendlier than the makeup artist, that’s for sure. When he was telling me how to pose, he said “I know it looks weird when a bloke does it…” Yes. Yes it does. πŸ˜†

Changing out of clothes and everything really reminded me of the days I used to perform in dance concerts. It was hell changing out of clothes and thinking of how to change clothes depending on the order of acts. Sometimes girls would wear two pairs of stockings or tights so that it would save time while changing. It was a hectic process. And same deal, I hate wearing makeup so before I went to university at night, I had a shower and washed all the gunk off my face.

My legs are so sore from walking up the stairs on Monday, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it again on Friday… must push on! πŸ˜…

I’m a bit disappointed I only got one photo printed today in class. It’s time consuming. But I’m glad I don’t need to actually dip the prints into the developer and rinse and stuff, because we’re allowed to use the machine which has your photo printed and dried in ninety seconds. 😁 My tutor liked the photo I took of a door. A door. The laundry door. I guess there’s something about it. It sparks curiosity. It’s not the front door of a house. It’s not a bedroom door. It’s a wooden door of a wooden section of house. It’s drab in colour. There are vague shadows of plants.

I am starting to get stressed out… something tells me I will mentally implode come December.

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